There was a time before everyone had their own websites, or were hooked up to giant search engines, when vacation decisions could be made on the fly. I remember traveling through Turkey, when I was in college, never knowing what town I'd go to next. Never buying train tickets in advance. Never reserving a hostel or hotel room in advance. It was the summer, tourist season...we were surrounded by Germans on one of their never ending holidays, but there was no stress about where we'd be sleeping; about getting from point A to point B.
But these days, when every tiny pension has its own website, set up with the same calendar feature allowing you to book up to 6 months in advance (and the earlier you do it, the cheaper it will be...and book now since there are only 5 rooms left - even though the place may only have 5 rooms), vacation planning has become necessary and stressful.
Right now, Leo and I are planning our trip to Spain. On an impulse we bought a plane ticket to Barcelona, then out of Seville 10 days later - sounds easy enough. But for the past few weeks I've been agonizing over the smallest details - train times, car rentals, ferry schedules, routes to get us to where we need to go, where we're going to be each night, then trying to find a place to stay. Plus, with everything being done on the internet, three months in advance and some of the places I've been looking at for us to stay are booking up (I bet it's the Germans). So far, we have a hotel for 3 nights in Barcelona and 1 night in Seville, and that's it. And I'm stressed and need a vacation.
Tuesday, April 29, 2008
Monday, April 28, 2008
Ally McBeal syndrome
One thing that keeps bothering me is what women here find appropriate to wear to work. It's not that I'm an old maid, confused by the fashions of the modern world. Nor am I all that prudish. Showing a little leg is fine (depending on your office). But the amount of leg that I see walking to work each morning...it's nearly obscene. Sometimes it's just a shirt dress, that looks more like a shirt, over some dark tights. Other times it's a mini, mini skirts that would cover nothing if the woman bent over to pick up her briefcase. Very often their jackets come down well below their skirts, so they look like flashers on the prowl. They look more like pricey escorts than business woman...and if I can't help but stare at them as they pass me on the street, then I fear how them men in their offices may react to their outfits.
*if i'm able to snap some pictures of this epidemic, i'll certainly post them
*if i'm able to snap some pictures of this epidemic, i'll certainly post them
Wednesday, April 23, 2008
A nice visit
For the past week and a half Leo's parents have been in London. 
So we've gotten to show them around, told them of interesting places to visit (when we, unfortunately, had to work) and we've taken them to some of our favorite restaurants. What's really funny is that when they would come and visit us in New York, we'd always take them out to eat and they were never impressed. Typically, something would go wrong with the meal (rude waiters, wrong meals served, bad food) and it would sour the restaurant experience.
When they came to London, they weren't expecting much in terms of good food. English food is the butt of many jokes in the US. Living here, however, we've learned there is a lot of really good food, and some which should still be avoided (don't get steak and kidney pie from just any pub). But Leo's parents enjoyed nearly every meal they had while they were here (aside from last night's meal at Quality Chop House which made us all ill). Some really good ones were our dinner at St. John, eel pie and mash at F. Cookes,
and a Sunday roast at the Royal Oak, which Leo's father said was "the best."
It's nice, now that we've lived here for a couple of months, to be able to recommend activities, sights and restaurants to people coming to visit us. It almost makes me feel like a local. And it was wonderful spending time with Leo's folks. We miss you already!
So we've gotten to show them around, told them of interesting places to visit (when we, unfortunately, had to work) and we've taken them to some of our favorite restaurants. What's really funny is that when they would come and visit us in New York, we'd always take them out to eat and they were never impressed. Typically, something would go wrong with the meal (rude waiters, wrong meals served, bad food) and it would sour the restaurant experience.When they came to London, they weren't expecting much in terms of good food. English food is the butt of many jokes in the US. Living here, however, we've learned there is a lot of really good food, and some which should still be avoided (don't get steak and kidney pie from just any pub). But Leo's parents enjoyed nearly every meal they had while they were here (aside from last night's meal at Quality Chop House which made us all ill). Some really good ones were our dinner at St. John, eel pie and mash at F. Cookes,
and a Sunday roast at the Royal Oak, which Leo's father said was "the best."
It's nice, now that we've lived here for a couple of months, to be able to recommend activities, sights and restaurants to people coming to visit us. It almost makes me feel like a local. And it was wonderful spending time with Leo's folks. We miss you already!
Tuesday, April 22, 2008
Short musings
Why is an underground walkway called a subway, when the word subway is used in other countries to define an underground train?
Why has the idea of restaurant food delivery not caught on here?
Why does my fridge freeze everything on the bottom shelf one day, but not the next?
Why do you say, "Hello, is that so-and-so" when calling someone on the phone, rather that "Hello, is this so-and-so"?
Why do palm trees grow here in the winter, and why is the grass always green?
When should a pound be called a quid?
Why has the idea of restaurant food delivery not caught on here?
Why does my fridge freeze everything on the bottom shelf one day, but not the next?
Why do you say, "Hello, is that so-and-so" when calling someone on the phone, rather that "Hello, is this so-and-so"?
Why do palm trees grow here in the winter, and why is the grass always green?
When should a pound be called a quid?
Friday, April 18, 2008
Offal (not awful) dining
Leo's parents are in town, so we took them to our favorite restaurant, St. John. As always, the food and the experience were fantastic. We started with black cuttlefish with onions and, the St. John standard, roast bone marrow and parsley salad. Even though Leo said he wasn't going to partake of the bone marrow, since he was all bone-marrowed out from our meal there last week, he still scarfed down all of the marrow from one bone. For our mains, I had ox heart with a beetroot and pickled walnut salad. The heart was incredible tender, which a bit of a vinegary tang to it.
Leo's mother had sweetbreads cooked with bacon and peas. The bacon was probably the best I've ever had - rich and smoky - and the sweetbreads took on a bit of the smokiness. The sweetbreads were so soft, it was like eating a cloud.
Leo's father had Venison liver with mashed celeriac (celery root). The liver was not as tenbring out more of it's gamy flavor. 
Leo had the most interesting dish of the evening - squirrel with garlic, served with pate (not sure if it was squirrel related) on the side. When it came out, Leo was convinced that either the meat had come from two squirrels, or that the restaurant gotten his order wrong, since it looked like too much meat. But our server assured us that if we were to stack the pieces of meat, we'd get one big squirrel. The meat was the color and texture of duck, but tasted...for lack of a better descriptor...old. Kind of how mutton tastes like it comes from an older sheep, this had that older, dusty quality to it. It was very odd, but good. 
For dessert, we shared a rhubarb crumble served with something that tasted like clotted cream but looked like custard on the side and a baked pudding served with shortbread (sorry, by this point I was too exhausted from the amazing meal to take any more photos). We all enjoyed ourselves thoroughly and Leo and I will probably be back very soon.
Leo's mother had sweetbreads cooked with bacon and peas. The bacon was probably the best I've ever had - rich and smoky - and the sweetbreads took on a bit of the smokiness. The sweetbreads were so soft, it was like eating a cloud.
Leo's father had Venison liver with mashed celeriac (celery root). The liver was not as tenbring out more of it's gamy flavor. 
Leo had the most interesting dish of the evening - squirrel with garlic, served with pate (not sure if it was squirrel related) on the side. When it came out, Leo was convinced that either the meat had come from two squirrels, or that the restaurant gotten his order wrong, since it looked like too much meat. But our server assured us that if we were to stack the pieces of meat, we'd get one big squirrel. The meat was the color and texture of duck, but tasted...for lack of a better descriptor...old. Kind of how mutton tastes like it comes from an older sheep, this had that older, dusty quality to it. It was very odd, but good. 
For dessert, we shared a rhubarb crumble served with something that tasted like clotted cream but looked like custard on the side and a baked pudding served with shortbread (sorry, by this point I was too exhausted from the amazing meal to take any more photos). We all enjoyed ourselves thoroughly and Leo and I will probably be back very soon.
Wednesday, April 16, 2008
I'm a believer
I promised to return to the topic of socialized medicine once I had a few more encounters with it. After I registered with my local surgery, I made an appointment to see the nurse. I was able to schedule the appointment one night after work (very convenient!). Again, the waiting room was clean, I was called in for my appointment on time, and the nurse was lovely. She took down my medical history, she answered by questions about how the health care system works, and we laughed about the system in the US. Afterwards, I made an appointment to see the doctor for the following week. I could have easily arranged to have the appointments scheduled closer together, but I already had other things planned. The appointment with the doctor was so I could meet him and to get some of my US prescriptions transferred over here. This time when I arrived for my appointment, they even called me in early...that has NEVER happened to me in the US! The doctor was very nice, there were no problems finding comparable medications, and I was in an out quickly.
Next came my visit to the Pharmacy...which I was sure would be the place where the whole system would fall apart. I had asked the doctor what I need to get the prescriptions filled - any IDs, medical cards, etc. Also, I had noticed that my name was misspelled on the prescriptions, so I asked him if this would be a problem. He said that all I had to do was hand the prescription to the pharmacist and they'd hand me the pills. I was still not convinced that it could be so easy. I questioned him further, pointing out that I had no medical history with the pharmacist, and would there be a problem since I'm an American. Again, he just said to hand them the prescriptions.
So I went to Boots (the convenience store/pharmacy in my local underground station), I tentatively handed the pharmacist my prescriptions, and anticipated the worst. He told me it would take ten minutes and to wait to the side. I was astounded at how many people were working behind the counter. There were 3 people manning the registers and at least 3 more filling the orders (very different than my experiences in the US, where there is typically 1 person manning the counter who moves at the speed of a three-toed sloth, is incredibly surly, and always tells you that they don't have the medications you need). After 7 minutes, they called my name and one of the pharmacists explained how to use the medication and what to avoid when using it, she handed me the pills, and that was it. I stared at her amazed at what had just taken place. There was no hassle. There were no problems with my insurance not covering something. There was no discussion of getting generic pills rather than brand name ones to save money. It was quick, pleasant, simple, and cheap! I walked out of the store in shock...pills in hand, money still in my wallet..and with a greater appreciation for socialized medicine. I know that things may be different if I actually do get sick..but so far, I'm a believer.
Next came my visit to the Pharmacy...which I was sure would be the place where the whole system would fall apart. I had asked the doctor what I need to get the prescriptions filled - any IDs, medical cards, etc. Also, I had noticed that my name was misspelled on the prescriptions, so I asked him if this would be a problem. He said that all I had to do was hand the prescription to the pharmacist and they'd hand me the pills. I was still not convinced that it could be so easy. I questioned him further, pointing out that I had no medical history with the pharmacist, and would there be a problem since I'm an American. Again, he just said to hand them the prescriptions.
So I went to Boots (the convenience store/pharmacy in my local underground station), I tentatively handed the pharmacist my prescriptions, and anticipated the worst. He told me it would take ten minutes and to wait to the side. I was astounded at how many people were working behind the counter. There were 3 people manning the registers and at least 3 more filling the orders (very different than my experiences in the US, where there is typically 1 person manning the counter who moves at the speed of a three-toed sloth, is incredibly surly, and always tells you that they don't have the medications you need). After 7 minutes, they called my name and one of the pharmacists explained how to use the medication and what to avoid when using it, she handed me the pills, and that was it. I stared at her amazed at what had just taken place. There was no hassle. There were no problems with my insurance not covering something. There was no discussion of getting generic pills rather than brand name ones to save money. It was quick, pleasant, simple, and cheap! I walked out of the store in shock...pills in hand, money still in my wallet..and with a greater appreciation for socialized medicine. I know that things may be different if I actually do get sick..but so far, I'm a believer.
Monday, April 14, 2008
Market madness
As you've probably guessed, I love markets. It's probably because I've never really been exposed to them living in the States. There are the occasional farmer's markets...most with overpriced, gourmet produce and snotty clientele. In New York we had street festivals, which sold the same crappy jewelry, tube socks, and cold sausages on a different block each weekend. But here, the markets each have their own personalities, their own interesting products, and consistent times and location. I love it!
This weekend we went with our foodie friend Jordan to the Borough Market by London Bridge. The market is full of amazing looking produce, fresh fish, meat, poultry, pasta, and the best part is everyone is giving out free samples.
We were told to go early, but it was difficult to get our acts together before 11. Unfortunately, by the time we walked to the market it was packed with people. We still did our fair share of grazing and bought some food for dinner, but we should have heeded the advice and gone earlier.
Sunday I did another loop around our local markets (Brick Lane, Cheshire Street, Spitalfieds) searching again for interesting items to hang on our walls. This time I found a great camera from the 50s (a plastic Kodak Brownie). I also managed to hit the fruit stands at the right time and came home with a bag of bananas and a bag of tomatoes for two quid. Not a bad haul if I do say so myself!
This weekend we went with our foodie friend Jordan to the Borough Market by London Bridge. The market is full of amazing looking produce, fresh fish, meat, poultry, pasta, and the best part is everyone is giving out free samples.
We were told to go early, but it was difficult to get our acts together before 11. Unfortunately, by the time we walked to the market it was packed with people. We still did our fair share of grazing and bought some food for dinner, but we should have heeded the advice and gone earlier.
Sunday I did another loop around our local markets (Brick Lane, Cheshire Street, Spitalfieds) searching again for interesting items to hang on our walls. This time I found a great camera from the 50s (a plastic Kodak Brownie). I also managed to hit the fruit stands at the right time and came home with a bag of bananas and a bag of tomatoes for two quid. Not a bad haul if I do say so myself!
Saturday, April 12, 2008
Tuesday, April 8, 2008
I'm moving to Lisbon
Not really, but I'd like to. Our trip was amazing! Lisbon, for me as an American, was a place that always intrigued me, but I thought that I'd never visit (just because there are so many other places on my list to go to, this one always took a back seat). But when we found inexpensive flights and cheap accommodations, it was too hard to say no. The inexpensive flight at 6:45 on Friday morning meant that we had to get in a cab at 3:45 a.m. to catch a train to take us to Luton airport. But it also meant that our first day in Lisbon would be a full one. We checked into our hotel in the Baxia, in the city centre, and set off on one of our lengthy hikes (a.k.a death march). We first headed down to the water, then wandered east, through the Alfama, picking up a small bite to eat along the way at a cafe. After lunching outside in a park in front of the Se cathedral, we hiked our way up to the Castleo de Sao Jorge, mocking the tourists who opted to take the trolley rather than walking up the steep roads. From the castle, we could see out on the entire city. 
After a beer break at a cafe overlooking the river, we headed west to the hip area, the Barrio Alto. One thing we noticed about the city was the large amount of graffiti everywhere, especially in the Barrio Alto. It made it difficult to tell good neigbourhoods from bad ones. In some places the graffiti was almost artwork, whereas in other, it looked just like standard teenage tagging. The city is also known for the exquisite tiles on the buildings. I pointed out to Leo that even the stupid tagging teenagers respected the beauty of the historic tiles, since there was no graffiti on them, but Leo thought this was just because it was easy to wipe the paint off them. We wandered south hitting a street near the train station that I like to refer to as the land of bachalau (salted cod, which is a staple in Lisbon). Since, at this point, we had been up for about 16 hours, we decided to have an early dinner at one of the restaurants with outdoor seating in Rossio. We ended up having a great meal of very fresh bass and squid accompanied by a bottle of local Vinho Verde, and sharing a table with a group of German women who chatted with us throughout the meal (well, Leo did most of the talking). 
After dinner, we walked past one of the old bars that serves ginjinha (a cherry liquor) and couldn't refuse a shot.
Day 2 we decided to explore a bit outside of the city, taking the train to Cascais, the beach resort to the west of Lisbon. Both Leo and I had pictured spending the day on the beach in a sleepy fishing village. We apparently had both misread the guidebooks which said that Cascais used to be a fishing village. We also misread the weather, which was about 7 degrees colder that the previous day, a bit overcast and windy. We did still have a wonderful time, walking around the marina, then along the ocean and exploring the rocky outcroppings on the shore. We had some sandwiches for lunch at a cafe by the Boca del Infierno and then headed back to the train to our next destination of Belem. Belem is also on the coast and has some incredible monuments, churches, and pasteis (awesome custard tarts, which we partook of on several occasions). That evening, we came upon an MTV/Fiat extravaganza in the Barrio Alto - complete with DJs, silver people on stilts, a guy dressed as a ninja playing the dijeridou, cheesy dancers, and a fireworks display that burned members of the crowd (including myself). After witnessing this commercial spectacle, we had another wonderful meal at a restaurant called the 1ยบ de Maio, then had a few more drinks as we wandered through street party in the Barrio Alto on our way back to the hotel.
After a beer break at a cafe overlooking the river, we headed west to the hip area, the Barrio Alto. One thing we noticed about the city was the large amount of graffiti everywhere, especially in the Barrio Alto. It made it difficult to tell good neigbourhoods from bad ones. In some places the graffiti was almost artwork, whereas in other, it looked just like standard teenage tagging. The city is also known for the exquisite tiles on the buildings. I pointed out to Leo that even the stupid tagging teenagers respected the beauty of the historic tiles, since there was no graffiti on them, but Leo thought this was just because it was easy to wipe the paint off them. We wandered south hitting a street near the train station that I like to refer to as the land of bachalau (salted cod, which is a staple in Lisbon). Since, at this point, we had been up for about 16 hours, we decided to have an early dinner at one of the restaurants with outdoor seating in Rossio. We ended up having a great meal of very fresh bass and squid accompanied by a bottle of local Vinho Verde, and sharing a table with a group of German women who chatted with us throughout the meal (well, Leo did most of the talking). 
After dinner, we walked past one of the old bars that serves ginjinha (a cherry liquor) and couldn't refuse a shot.Day 3 we took a train into the mountains to Sintra. There we played in the elaborate gardens of Quinta da Regaleira, a mansion built by a rich eccentric in the 19th century which seemed to be a precursor to the Playboy mansion (complete with grottos, secret passageways, and aquariums). 
After that we stormed the Moorish castle, high up in the mountain overlooking the town, where Leo overcame his fear of height to beat me to the highest point of the castle remains. 
When we got back to Lisbon, we stopped for a ginjinha refresher, followed by a beer in a very local bar, then decided to have dinner at a Chinese restaurant in the Alfama. This tradition started when Leo and I went to Rome, where we had the best, cheapest, most wonderful meal at a Chinese restaurant (so good, we went twice). On another occasion we were taken by my cousin to a fabulous Vietnamese restaurant in Paris, and thus a tradition was born. This restaurant in Lisbon was far superior to anything we can get in London (New York too)!
After that we stormed the Moorish castle, high up in the mountain overlooking the town, where Leo overcame his fear of height to beat me to the highest point of the castle remains. 
When we got back to Lisbon, we stopped for a ginjinha refresher, followed by a beer in a very local bar, then decided to have dinner at a Chinese restaurant in the Alfama. This tradition started when Leo and I went to Rome, where we had the best, cheapest, most wonderful meal at a Chinese restaurant (so good, we went twice). On another occasion we were taken by my cousin to a fabulous Vietnamese restaurant in Paris, and thus a tradition was born. This restaurant in Lisbon was far superior to anything we can get in London (New York too)!On our final day we woke up to rain, which made for a depressing start to our last day (which was bound to be depressing, since we'd be heading home). It was also a Monday, which meant most things were closed (Monday is the new Sunday in Europe). We entertained ourselves as usual, with a lot more wandering around, seeking out the sun wherever we could find it. 
The trip was wonderful; the food was fantastic; the language was not easily understood; and we loved it all.
The trip was wonderful; the food was fantastic; the language was not easily understood; and we loved it all.Thursday, April 3, 2008
To not so far off lands
Tomorrow, well before the sun rises, we'll be on our way to Lisbon...where the sun is shining, the fish is fresh, and the sangres (beer) is cheap. We'll report back on Monday.
Wednesday, April 2, 2008
An introduction to socialized medicine
My doctor in the US told me before I left that the socialized medicine of the UK was far superior to our own health care system, provided you didn't get really sick (her exact words were "Don't have a heart attack or you may be dead before you get to see a specialist"). So, I thought that before anything happened where I needed a doctor urgently, I should find a GP. In the UK, you choose your doctor by where you live. So I randomly called up one surgery (as they are called here) and asked to register with them. After spelling my name three times over the phone, I had an appointment scheduled for the end of April. This is not an actual appointment with a doctor...this is an appointment to fill out the medical forms and show the receptionist my proof of ID and proof of residency. Then you make an appointment to see a nurse who will take your vitals. Then, once everything checks out, you can make an appointment to see a doctor.
Upon consulting my friend and coworkers, I decided to call up another surgery in the area, which they said was nicer, and I was told I could come in at any time to register. So, this morning, in the spitting rain, I walked to the surgery, anticipating the worst. Please remember, I come from a world of HMOs and EPOs and PPOs, where I've always had health insurance through my employer or school. I've always been able to see any doctor I've wanted and I've never had to pay too much. I've also been brainwashed to believe that the US has the best health care system around (for those who can afford it) and that socialized medicine doesn't work and isn't as good. So I was expecting what I imagine a free clinic in New York to look like. Instead, I was met with a very nice building, a very clean waiting room, and a very nice and helpful receptionist...who knew! I filled out the form, showed my proofs of ID, and have an appointment to come back next week for my visit with the nurse. Plus, their hours are convenient...two nights a week they are open until 8:00 pm so I don't need to take time off of work to go. I'll update you after the appointment.
Upon consulting my friend and coworkers, I decided to call up another surgery in the area, which they said was nicer, and I was told I could come in at any time to register. So, this morning, in the spitting rain, I walked to the surgery, anticipating the worst. Please remember, I come from a world of HMOs and EPOs and PPOs, where I've always had health insurance through my employer or school. I've always been able to see any doctor I've wanted and I've never had to pay too much. I've also been brainwashed to believe that the US has the best health care system around (for those who can afford it) and that socialized medicine doesn't work and isn't as good. So I was expecting what I imagine a free clinic in New York to look like. Instead, I was met with a very nice building, a very clean waiting room, and a very nice and helpful receptionist...who knew! I filled out the form, showed my proofs of ID, and have an appointment to come back next week for my visit with the nurse. Plus, their hours are convenient...two nights a week they are open until 8:00 pm so I don't need to take time off of work to go. I'll update you after the appointment.
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